


Something Borrowed

by advictorem



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Angsty Jason, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Humor, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advictorem/pseuds/advictorem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghost/Human AU, Thalianca.</p><p>In all her years of guiding spirits to the other side, Bianca had never encountered one so stubborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Borrowed

Bianca had always been unordinary. She remembered bits and pieces of her childhood, being at her tenth birthday party and seeing her mother smiling at her, after her father said she wouldn’t be around anymore. She didn’t know her mother had actually been  _dead_.

She hadn’t understood her purpose in the world—not immediately. She couldn’t figure out why dead relatives would speak to her, why she would see forms other people couldn’t or ignored, why she could  _hear_ their voices even over a crowd of yelling people.

Her father explained it to her. He heard her talking to her mother, and he nearly lost it. He told her she was to guide her mother to the other side. He told her that she wasn’t supposed to be in this world any longer. She was supposed to be  _gone_.

Bianca was skeptical, but it was hard to deny something that made so much sense. It explained all the strange things she saw and heard.

She took her father’s advice. Every ghost or spirit she encountered, she helped them. She forced them over, knowing that heaven or hell was where they belonged. They just  _had_ to go, her father had said. They didn’t deserve to be on the earth any longer. They were meant to say goodbye.

Bianca knew there were spirits living among them. She knew they were everywhere, all around her, hovering over their children, trying desperately to speak to their widows.

So, she really should’ve been more careful when purchasing a new house.

She was living in it for three full days whenever she first noticed the presence of a spirit.

Spirits appeared to her as regular people. Sometimes, it was hard to know the difference. She had to sit back and do a lot of observing. She had to ask herself questions.

Did anyone else seem to notice them? Could she see their aura? Was it dark or light? Could she hear them?

She assessed that she could  _definitely_ hear the spirit lounging on her couch, hand buried in a bag of chips. Bianca didn’t know why she bothered. Ghosts couldn’t  _eat_. The food vanished as soon as her lips pressed against it, but she didn’t look annoyed by it. She continued trying to shovel them into her mouth.

At first, Bianca thought she was a cliché evil spirit. She had the leather jacket, the dangerous styled short hair (seriously, she could have poked one of Bianca’s eyes out if she were corporeal), and she was rather dark. She thought the girl had to be clouded with a dark aura, but she realized it had to be just her skin tone.

She didn’t look particularly approachable (quite intimidating, actually) but she didn’t have red eyes either—something that every evil spirit had.

Bianca didn’t know what to say when she spotted her. She had just been on her way to work out on the treadmill, dressed in a sports bra and tight shorts—how embarrassing—when she heard the rustling of the bag of chips.

She didn’t have to say anything.

The spirit, without even glancing directly at her, tossed the bag of chips onto the coffee table and leaned all the way into the couch.

“Are you the girl who banishes ghosts?”

The question surprised her. Spirits usually ranted to her about their death, their families, what they were leaving behind. They never actually started a conversation that revolved around  _her_. Hell, no one took an interest in her. Ever. Dead or alive.

“Who’s asking?”

The spirit chuckled, and Bianca could tell she was being silently mocked. “A ghost.”

“You…you want me to banish you?”

She was so confused. Ghosts typically never came to  _her_. It had always been the other way around.

The ghost girl snorted. “Please. Like you could.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But I do need your help with something.”

“Forget it,” Bianca snarled. “I don’t  _help_ ghosts. I don’t know how you got into my house, but if you don’t get out of it now, I’ll see to it that you go straight to hell.”

She couldn’t do that. She knew she couldn’t. But that didn’t mean that the ghost girl would catch her bluff.

Ghost Girl stood up. “The door was open.”

Bianca froze. “What?”

“The door was open,” she repeated, slowly backing to the front door, which stood ajar. “Might want to watch that next time. I’m sure the next ghost won’t be so nice to you.”

Why had her door been open? She simply didn’t understand. She  _had_ closed it.

“Bianca!”

She barely caught her breath as her brother ran in from the kitchen. “This is a really nice place!”

Oh, thank God. Her  _brother_ had been the one to open the door.

She released an exhausted breath. “Hello, Nico.” She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, choosing to ignore it when he flinched away uncomfortably. “How are things at home?”

Nico pulled on the hem of his jacket, glancing anywhere but her. “Persephone is a nightmare. She’s always getting onto me and punishing me for stuff that I don’t even do.”

Persephone could be a horrible woman, but Bianca couldn’t fully bring herself to blame the woman. She knew she hadn’t wanted to marry Hades, her father.

But she  _could_ blame the woman for giving her little brother a hard time.

Bianca absentmindedly touched her braid. “Tell you what—it’s getting kind of lonely around here. How about you talk to Dad about staying with me for a while?”

Nico frowned. “But Dad says it’s dangerous.”

Bianca’s smile faltered. “I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. Prometto, fratellino.”

She moved his bangs and leaned down an inch or two to kiss his forehead. He was almost her height. Seeing as she was twenty and he was fourteen, it was actually kind of pitiful.

It took hours upon hours of convincing, but her father finally allowed her to keep Nico at her place for a couple of weeks.

She just hoped that stupid ghost didn’t show up again.

* * *

 Ghost Girl didn’t show up the next day. Or the next day. Or the next day after that.

Bianca couldn’t lie. She was curious. Beyond curious, in fact. A spirit had never come to her seeking help. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Ghost Girl needed her help with. Was it another ghost? Did she want to make amends or something?

To her, spirits had always been exactly that—lifeless, selfish, detached from the world, spirits. Ghost Girl didn’t seem to be any of that. She seemed to be very much alive. She tried to eat. She didn’t want to cross over. She came to her house, seeking out Bianca.

That didn’t happen every day.

In fact, it was two full weeks before she had an encounter with a spirit at all.

When she did, Nico hadn’t been with her. She was on her way home after picking up groceries. She heard a noise in the alley and she had never been afraid of much, and so she had gone to investigate. A force slammed into her, and it took a few moments of her staring into the red eyes for her to realize that it was a possessed person.

Possessed by a spirit. A spirit who apparently had a problem with her.

She quickly got to her feet again, smoothing out her dress.

“I think someone needs to see the light.”

Her throat was gripped tightly and she was tossed against the brick wall. The spirit held her there, cutting off her breathing. She gasped, reaching for some kind of focus.

If she could only concentrate, she knew she could force the spirit out of the host body.

“Hey, fella.”

 _Ghost Girl_.

Bianca wished he would kill her already.

He let her drop. He spun around to face Ghost Girl, his nostrils flaring and his body surrounded in a dark fog. He hissed at her, which sent a chill through Bianca but her ghost looked as calm as ever.

And ugh, was she  _smoking_?

 _Oh, please, like it could ruin her health_ , Bianca told herself sarcastically.

“See,” Ghost Girl started, flinging her cigarette to the ground. It dissipated before it hit the concrete. “I’d love to see you kill her, really, but I sorta can’t let that happen.”

He hissed louder.

“Oh, you’re  _that_ type of ghost,” Ghost Girl drawled. “Hey, pretty girl, you might want to be against the wall for this.”

Bianca wasn’t sure what happened next, but a moment later Ghost Girl had vanished, and the body of the possessed man was being thrown back and forth, left to right, by some invisible force. Bianca watched as his eyes changed rapidly from red to electric blue to brown.

Eventually, after a few tense moments, she watched as a spirit leapt out of the body. It was black, with long claws, and appeared incredibly deformed, its skin wrinkly and gray and nearly transparent. It snarled at her, its red eyes bleeding into her.

She had seen her fair share of evil spirits, but she had never seen one quite like that.

Bianca breathed heavily, her back pressed against the damp brick wall. Her dress was stained with dirt, caked in filth, but she decided she could be angry about that later.

Just as Ghost Girl popped out of the host body, Bianca reached out her hand, muttering words to herself, closing her eyes, and concentrating.

As soon as the demon—she decided it couldn’t just be an evil spirit—lunged for her, as soon as she saw Ghost Girl moving to intervene, she shouted, “Go to hell!”

Using all of her strength and energy, she banished the demon, watching as it burned from the inside out, glancing around like it was confused. It erupted in front of them, the ashes sizzling into the concrete and leaving black marks.

Ghost Girl arched a brow, obviously impressed, and reached out to shake Bianca’s hand. She looked disappointed when her hand only went through. She let her hand drop to her side.

“So,” she began, visibly biting back a smirk, “I’m guessing you sort of owe me a favor now?”

* * *

“You want me to bring you back to life?”

Ghost Girl nodded, confused.

“That’s preposterous!” Bianca declared, scoffing and glancing away. “You  _died_. You have to stay  _dead_. You don’t get a second chance. That’s not how these things work.”

Ghost Girl stared over the cup of coffee on the table, which Bianca had offered to her just out of sheer politeness.

She looked relatively calm, controlled, but Bianca was way too good at reading people. She could see the anger glinting in her deep blue eyes. She could see her frustration in the way her lips were pursed, and the way she steepled her fingers on her lap.

Something about her was so familiar. The way she narrowed her eyes, the way her calculated words sounded as they poured from her mouth.

Who did that remind Bianca of?

“I wasn’t meant to die, Bianca.”

How did she know her name?

“How do you know my name?”

“Ghost, remember?” Ghost Girl retorted, smirking. “Supernatural being. I see things, I hear things. I don’t taste or feel things, but hey. It’s not too bad of an un-life.”

“Why do you want to leave it behind then?” she asked, reclining against the arm of the couch.

“I told you,” Ghost Girl asserted, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t meant to die.”

“You’re meant to die when you die,” Bianca argued fervently. “And when you die, you’re meant to leave this earth.”

“Leave the earth?” the spirit repeated. “Who told you that?”

“That’s not important,” Bianca snapped. “What’s important is that I can’t help you. I think you need to leave.”

“You’re blowing me off again,” Ghost Girl accused.

“That I am,” Bianca agreed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Leave.”

The laughter that erupted from the ghost’s throat enraged her.

“Make me,” Ghost Girl encouraged with clenched teeth. “Go on.”

Bianca felt the anger swell but she easily pushed it down. She’s had years of practice managing her temper. She was an older sister, after all.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll banish you to Hell, like I should’ve done to begin with.”

She knew she couldn’t do that—not to good spirits, anyway. She figured she might as well try to scare the ghost off. It had worked the other day, hadn’t it?

Ghost Girl was cracking up.

Bianca pretended to concentrate, closing her eyes and clenching her fists.

All of a sudden, the ghost’s laughter stopped. Bianca froze, asking herself a million questions at once. Why had she stopped? Was she gone? Had Bianca actually banished her to  _Hell_?

Her dark eyes flew open, her long eyelashes striking the skin of her face briefly. Ghost Girl was nowhere in sight. She sighed in relief before she actually processed what that meant.

She had sent a good soul—an annoying one, but a good one nonetheless—to endure eternal torment. What kind of monster was she?

* * *

Bianca couldn’t fight off her guilt for the rest of the week, or the week after that. She had to do something—but how could she? She wasn’t a miracle worker. Despite what Ghost Girl thought, she couldn’t bring someone back to life! And she definitely couldn’t save them from Hell.

She had done it so many times—banished souls to the afterlife, sent demonic spirits to Hell.

Why was she dwelling on this so much?

She opened up to Nico.

She, of course, did not tell him the complete truth—her father forbade her to ever tell any other person.

She spoke to him hypothetically.

“So, I had this friend—well, not really a friend,” she confided in him, eyes drawn to the center of the dinner table. “And I sent her away. I—I gave her the impression that I don’t want her around.”

“ _Do_ you want her around?” Nico asked, munching on the cheeseburger Bianca had gotten him on her way home from work.

“I don’t know,” Bianca replied. “She’s annoying as heck, and I’ve only met her twice.”

Nico shrugged innocently, loudly sipping from his straw. “I don’t see what the problem is then. If you don’t want her around, you shouldn’t feel bad.”

“But she’s  _good,_ Nico,” Bianca blurted before she could stop herself. “She only wanted my help, and I banished her.”

He smiled in confusion. “Um, okay.”

She didn’t resolve anything in her own mind, but she decided that she felt a little more peaceful. Even though he was in the eighth grade, talking to him had the effect that talking to her mother had had on her—she wasn’t as worried. Her mind was at ease.

Bianca missed her mother. But like all spirits, even she had to go.

* * *

“Miss me yet?” a voice purred into her ear.

Bianca nearly dropped her can of tomatoes in the middle of the aisle. “Ghost Girl?” she whispered, not daring to glance over her shoulder.

“ _Ghost Girl_?” the voice responded, incredulous. “Is that what you call me in your head?”

Bianca spun around, throwing her back against the shelves when she looked up to see Ghost Girl’s lips about a millimeter away from her forehead.

She breathed out heavily, ignoring the looks she was getting from the other shoppers in the aisle. She tried to talk subtly from the corner of her mouth.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

She wanted to ask  _how_ she was there. She wanted to apologize for sending her to Hell. But she could only really be angry.  _Livid_ , in fact. Out of all the times she could’ve showed up, she chose to do it now—she materialized in aisle seven, making Bianca look like a raging maniac in front of a bunch of people.

If she were corporeal, Bianca would’ve slammed her into the shelves of chicken noodle soup.

Ghost Girl grinned wickedly, rocking back on her heels, digging her hands into the pockets of her jeans in a way that was so American Boy that Bianca could’ve laughed in her face.

“Came to see if you regretted trying to banish me yet,” Ghost Girl admitted. “So, you looked pretty guilty. Ready to help me now?”

“What is  _wrong_  with you?” Bianca shouted, seeing a soccer mom flee from the aisle. “Do you think this is okay? Do you honestly believe that disappearing on someone, making them think they sent you to Hell, and then popping up in the middle of a grocery run is  _okay_?”

“I’m dead,” Ghost Girl answered. “ _That’s_ what wrong with me. But you— _you_ can help me fix that!”

“I said forget it,” Bianca snarled, not fully understanding why she didn’t want to help this ghost. “Get lost again, Ghost Girl. I liked it better when you were gone.”

“Thalia.”

“What?” Bianca asked, shocked at the soft response. “What did you say?”

“Thalia,” Ghost Girl repeated. “My name is Thalia.”

After she was escorted out of the store by the manager, she found herself in a stupor. She had never bothered to learn a spirit’s name. They had never told her either. There was something about hearing Ghost Girl’s name, feeling her persistence to talk to her, watching her expressions and hearing her laughs that made her seem so  _human_.

But she had to be dead, right? She was meant to be dead. She wasn’t meant to stay on earth.

Why was Bianca so reluctant to watch her go? Why did she want to help her?

* * *

An exasperated groan. Bianca didn’t know a spirit could be so dramatic.

“Will you just listen to me?”

“Leave me alone,” Bianca snapped. “I’m sick of you following me around.”

“So,” Thalia remarked, turning her head to the ceiling. “Why don’t you force me to cross over? You’ve done it to plenty of others.”

“Fine,” Bianca said, standing up.

Before she could do anything, Thalia sighed.

“It won’t work.”

“What?”

“It won’t work,” Thalia repeated. “I’m not going into anything now, but there’s sort of a little curse on my soul, so it’s not going anywhere.”

“There’s a curse on your soul?”

Bianca had never heard anything like that.

Thalia nodded. “Told you I wasn’t supposed to be dead.”

Bianca grumbled almost-curses to herself. She smoothed out her skirt as she took a seat on the coffee table, facing the bane of her existence.

“Fine,” Bianca said calmly, reining in her annoyance. “So, talk.”

Thalia died ten years ago. She didn’t go into too many details. She said she’d been a necessary death; she had sacrificed herself for others. Thalia explained that she didn’t really feel like she was dead. She was simply resting, until someone like Bianca popped into her life again.

Bianca tried, honestly, but she couldn’t find any sense in her explanations at all. Once someone died, that was it, right?

That’s what her father had always told her.

“How did you…sacrifice yourself?” Bianca dared to ask, most of the anger drained out of her system.

“We were cornered,” she explained reluctantly, eyeing Bianca. “I was with three others. I told them to go ahead.”

“Cornered?” Bianca repeated. She leaned forward, actually getting into the story. “By what?”

“I—I’m sorry, B,” Thalia stuttered out, the nickname falling from her lips.

Bianca was struck, almost remembering something from her past. The memory flickered out of her mind as soon as it had arrived.

“I have to go,” Thalia said before simply vanishing from sight.

Now she was _willingly_ walking away from her?

* * *

It was strange how people always seemed to search up supernatural things at night time. Maybe the surrounding darkness made stories like that sound much more plausible.

But it was the only time Nico wouldn’t be hovering over her shoulder, so she figured she might as well conform.

She searched  _Thalia_. A singer came up. She searched  _Thalia death_. A few mix-matched articles. She wasn’t determined to flip through pages and pages of death rumors, so she changed her search.

 _Thalia killed_.

The second article down caught her eye.

_Local Teen Killed by Unidentified Attacker._

Bianca swallowed her trepidation, and clicked the link. In the sidebar, there was an image of her ghost, about two years younger, grinning and holding a blond toddler with a scarred lip.

Killed? Thalia had been killed.

She mustered up the strength to read the article in its entirety.

Thalia  _Grace_ —along with people named Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase, and Jason  _Grace_ —had been surrounded by a gang. The article contained a quote from one of the other kids—Annabeth.

“ _We tried to convince her to run. I fought Luke as he dragged me away. But Thalia’s a hero. She saved us all.”_

A quote from Jason really struck her.

“ _She was my big sister. And I’m gonna find whoever did this to us.”_

Brother. Thalia had a younger brother, like Bianca did.

There was something wrong with what Bianca was feeling—wonderment, sympathy. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have layers. They were supposed to be lifeless, dull, and uncaring.

Maybe Thalia was right. Maybe she wasn’t like the other ghosts. Maybe she wasn’t meant to die after all.

* * *

It took a lot of researching, but Bianca found out where the three witnesses lived. They all lived in Long Island, not too far from Bianca herself. They resided in a place called Half-Blood Youth Center—she did some research on the place. It was an orphanage.

She made the trip from Maine to New York in record timing. Nico had insisted on coming with her. She just hoped that she would be able to talk to Luke, Annabeth, and Jason alone.

As she made her way up the steps, Nico started tugging on her jacket to catch her attention.

She sighed. “What is it, Nico?”

“There’s a lady glaring at you.”

“So what?” she responded. “People are rude, Nico.”

“No,” he insisted, shaking his head wildly, causing his shaggy black hair to fly into his mouth. He ungracefully spat it back out. “She’s walking this way. I think she’s really mad at you. Is she the friend you mentioned?”

“Oh my God.”

“ _B_ ,” Thalia growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Bianca was shocked. She couldn’t even spin around. She was breathing heavily—and, for the first time, it was out of fear and not anger.

“You can see her, fratellino?”

“Of course I can see her,” Nico said. “She’s kind of too big not to notice. Do you eat a lot of spinach? How did you get so tall? Dad says Bianca and I missed out on getting the tall gene. We’re short like my mama—”

She didn’t want to think about what this meant. Nico  _couldn’t_ be like her. He just couldn’t be a freak. Did her dad know? She hoped for Nico’s sake that he never found out. How long had he been seeing the things that she’s seen?

“ _Nico_.”

“What are you doing here, Bianca?” Thalia repeated, moving forward until the nape of Bianca’s neck felt frozen solid. “Why did you come here?”

“I wanted to learn more about what happened,” she explained shakily. “I wanted to learn more about you.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Would you have told me?” Bianca countered.

Thalia groaned. “No.”

“Exactly,” Bianca reasoned. “Have you visited here before?”

Thalia inhaled even though it wasn’t necessary, and then shook her head. “I…I haven’t had the time.”

“You’re dead,” Bianca countered. “You have all the time in the world.”

“Whoa, wait,” Nico piped up, and Bianca caught her mistake. “She’s  _dead_?” He gasped, looking up at Thalia in amazement. “You’re a spirit?”

“Spirit is kind of offensive, little man.”

Bianca snorted. “I’m sorry, do you prefer Noncorporeal American?”

Thalia seethed. “You had no right to come here. No right.”

“Yet you have every right and never did,” Bianca retorted softly. “I can help you. If you want to see them, I can help you.”

She had never helped a ghost communicate with their loved ones—she wasn’t Jennifer Love Hewitt, for the love of God. But Bianca decided that if anyone deserved it, Thalia did.

It certainly couldn’t hurt.

“Absolutely not!” Thalia squeaked.

If Bianca wasn’t so determined in this prospect already, she would’ve laughed at the fact that a six-foot-tall punk ghost just  _squeaked_.

Nico grinned, trying to take Thalia by the hand. To Bianca’s surprise, their hands actually connected. Thalia looked just as surprised as she did, electric blue eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“Let’s go talk to them,” Nico encouraged. “Are they your family?”

Thalia visibly gulped. “Something like that, yeah. Listen, how can you be—”

“We’ll help you talk to them!” he said excitedly. “I’ve seen this sort of thing on TV. With Bianca and me here, you won’t even need a Luigi board!”

“Ouija board,” Bianca corrected, hesitantly knocking on the door of the orphanage.

When she heard Thalia’s quick intake of breath, she concluded that the blonde girl in front of her had to be Annabeth.

Annabeth jolted, like she felt a chill along her spine. She fixed unfocused eyes on Bianca. “Can I help you with something?”

Her gray eyes drifted down to Nico.

“You’re dropping off a child,” she realized, her mouth twitching into a scowl. “Follow me. I’ll take you to Chiron.”

Bianca stayed silent, wanting to correct her, but also wanting to meet the owner of the orphanage.

She followed Annabeth through the two-story house until they came to a door. It had a name plate.  _Chiron Brunner_.

“Here you are,” Annabeth said. She looked to Nico and smiled at him. “It’s not too bad here, kid. How about I show you around?”

Nico perked up. “Oh! I’m not staying here. I’m only here for Thalia!”

“Little dude,” Thalia whispered angrily. “Shut your mouth!”

“Thalia?” Annabeth whispered, dazed. “What?”

“His imaginary friend,” Bianca blurted, offering her an unstable smile. Thalia flashed a grateful look, and she was honestly stunned by the sincerity of her smile. “She’s been with him for years.”

Nico nodded in agreement, before he held their hands up. “I’m holding her hand! It’s really cold.”

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the space next to Nico, and Bianca heard Thalia inhale. She eventually smiled. “I had a friend named Thalia. She held my hand when I got scared, too.”

A tall man had been listening to the entire conversation. He walked from around the corner and knelt in front of Nico. He had a frightening scar down his face. “How about you let your friend Thalia hang around the lady who brought you here, and Annabeth and I will show you the place?”

Nico frowned. “But Thalia’s scared—”

“Am  _not_.”

“She’ll be fine,” he assured. “My name is Luke. What’s yours?”

“Nico di Angelo!” he said brightly, frowning when he spotted hesitance in their eyes. “What?”

“Di Angelo?” Annabeth asked breathlessly, looking to Luke for something. “Well, Nico, come on with us.”

He reluctantly left Bianca’s side, realizing that things would probably go a lot smoother for Bianca and Thalia if he went along with it.

“What was that all about?” Bianca asked.

Thalia stared into her eyes for a couple of seconds, neither of them blinking. She turned her gaze. “This is not the time to talk about it. If they tell you—if you really talk to them about me, and they tell you—it will be their choice. It’s not something I really want you to know.”

“Hello,” a man in a wheelchair opened the door. He smiled at them. “Can I help you?”

Bianca bit her lip, watching as he rolled himself back over to his desk. She took a seat in the chair across from him, fidgeting uncomfortably whenever she felt and saw Thalia sink through her. They were literally sharing the same space.

“I’m looking for someone,” Bianca said calmly.

Mr. Brunner raised his eyebrows and hummed. “Is that so?”

She nodded.

“Jason,” Thalia said in realization. “You want to speak to Jason.”

“Jason Grace,” Bianca told him.

Mr. Brunner smiled at her warmly. “Are you looking to adopt?”

“Yes,” Thalia whispered.

Bianca had to stop herself from speaking the same words. “I just need to speak to him so that I can—”

“ _Please_. He won’t let you in the office if you don’t tell him you’re looking to adopt,” Thalia whispered into her ear, bending her head low, like she felt Chiron staring at her.

“Yes,” Bianca said nervously. “I’m looking to adopt. Sorry. I get too technical sometimes.”

 “Alright,” Mr. Brunner said brightly. He took a stack of papers out of his left drawer. “I’m going to ask you to sign this adoption form and, of course, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”

“Anything,” she agreed, nodding.

Before she could reach for it, Thalia snatched the pen off the desk. The next thing Bianca knew, she was in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Thalia was standing directly behind her, looking like a chastised child. She didn’t have a reflection.

Bianca spun around and unthinkingly punched out. As always, her fist sailed right through Thalia’s body. How in the world had Nico done it?

“You  _possessed_  me?”

“If some lady is ending up with my baby brother, it’s because I condoned it and set the terms for it,” Thalia answered, turning her nose up haughtily.

“You’re the one who wanted me to adopt him!” Bianca accused. “I wasn’t going to actually adopt, you idiot! I just needed to ask him questions!”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Thalia snapped. “I—I was supposed to be the one raising him. We were going to find a nice place and I would get a job, and come home to him every day, and fucking take care of him like a big sister is supposed to—”

“Thalia,” Bianca cut her off, her voice slowly losing its volume. “Did you…run away?”

Tears began to well in Thalia’s eyes, and Bianca understandingly looked away.

“We all did.”

“You ran away with Jason,” Bianca realized. “And Luke. And—and that girl Annabeth. How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Thalia answered after taking a few moments to control herself. “I would be twenty-eight the 22nd of December.”

Just to be clear, Bianca had never wanted to hug a dead person. Ever. But at that moment, staring at the soul of an eighteen-year-old girl who had to grow up  _way_ too fast, she had never wanted to hug one more.

“I’ll help you.”

Thalia glanced up. “What?”

“I said,” Bianca began, not even believing it herself, “I’ll help you.”

* * *

“It’s a nice house,” Jason admitted quietly.

It was the first time he had bothered to say anything.

Just from hearing his voice, Bianca could already tell that he and Thalia were siblings. His words, even though they were quiet, carried a sort of irrefutable strength in them.

Bianca liked the boy. He was polite and respectful. He was cute, and she could tell that one day, when he was no longer fifteen, he would grow to be rather handsome. Every time she looked at him, she felt something very strange. He was like an alive, breathing, healthy, light-haired version of Thalia. He made her think of what it would be like to have Ghost Girl corporeal. What would it be like to hug her? What did she smell like? What did she  _feel_ like?

Nico had tried to engage Jason in conversation on the whole car ride home, but he had stayed silent, offering a small smile so he wouldn’t offend anyone.

Thalia had vanished after the bathroom conversation, implying that she would be swinging by her house later. Bianca really doubted it. She was all shaken up from the prospect of having her baby brother back again—even though it was indirectly.

Jason settled into Nico’s room. Bianca had yet to purchase a spare bed for him to sleep in, but Jason admitted that he didn’t much mind company.

“I’ve never had my own bed,” he revealed. “I’ve always slept next to someone.”

Bianca smiled at him, feeling how uncomfortable he was, and chose not to start up any small talk. He had been in bed for three hours before Thalia appeared, in her bed, inches away from her.

If Bianca wasn’t used to the supernatural by now, she would’ve jumped eight feet. Instead, she turned her television volume down.

“I was wondering when you would show up,” she admitted.

Thalia’s face was conflicted, drawn together stressfully. “He’s different.”

“Who? Jason?”

“He’s not happy.”

“Is he supposed to be?” Bianca asked. “He’s been without his sister for years.”

Thalia released a breath. “Right. Which is why you have to help me.”

Bianca pinched her nose between her fingers. “I said I would. Don’t make me regret it. And don’t give your hopes up.”

“I  _know_ you can do it,” Thalia asserted. "You have to be the one."

“Are you sure this is what you want? I could send you to Heaven. You could be happy.”

“You can’t send me anywhere,” Thalia argued. “I’ve told you that.”

“But I can find a way to break the curse—”

“Don’t you get it?” Thalia seethed. “I don’t want to leave. Not when there’s so much reason to stay.”

Bianca could’ve asked her for the reasons—all of them—but she didn’t have to. Not with the way Thalia’s eyes implored hers, her cold, nearly transparent flesh inches away from her.

Thalia thought of Bianca as a friend. She had already confided so much into her.

Bianca turned on her side, facing Thalia completely. “What do we have to do?”

* * *

“This is where you were buried?”

Thalia’s nose crinkled in disgust. “Yeah. Don’t expect to see Julia Roberts down there.”

Bianca panted, flinging the shovel down. “Can’t you at least help?”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. Just let me use my corporeal hands to pick up that corporeal shovel, and I’ll get right to work.”

“You’re such a butthead.”

“Butthead?” the ghost snorted. “You’re twenty, and you’re calling me a butthead.”

Bianca turned and came up short when she noticed how close Thalia was. Really, she should have expected it. It was like the ghost had never heard of personal space before.

“Stop doing that,” she lectured.

“I like being close to you,” Thalia explained, smirking wickedly. “You’re warm.”

Bianca blushed and turned away.

Thalia hummed. "That's not helping. You're getting warmer."

"Ma'am, what are you doing out here?"

Bianca froze at the sound of a man's voice. It was a police man. He had a name-tag.  _Officer Jackson_.

"Relax," Thalia whispered into her ear, leaving her shivering. "I'll handle this guy."

In the blink of an eye, she was gone, and Officer Jackson saucily placed his hand on his hip.

"Hey, there, pretty lady," he spoke, and the greeting had  _Thalia_ written all over it. "You diggin' up graves?"

"Thalia!" Bianca whispered harshly. "What are you  _doing_? Stop that!"

"What's wrong?" Thalia asked, flexing one of the man's arms. "You don't like that?"

"No, I don't," Bianca answered heatedly, rolling her eyes. "Get him out of here, so we can finish digging up your bones!"

"I gotta bone you can dig up." 

"Thalia!"

"Right, right," her ghost chuckled, sending two eyebrows shooting up. "Be right back, pretty lady."

Bianca didn't know why she was so red. She didn't know if it was because of Thalia's words or because she had been the one to say them. Bianca hoped it was the first. It wasn't like she had some sort of crush on her. She didn't! Thalia was a ghost, and Bianca was someone who got rid of ghosts.

So what if the ghost was somewhat different from other ghosts? So what if she was kind of, sort of charming when she tried to be? So what if Bianca had, on more than one occasion, imagined what it would be like to feel Thalia's fingers running through her hair, slowly undoing her tight braid? It was just a short infatuation, no doubt occurring because Bianca hadn't had any romantic contact with other humans for a good while.

She did  _not_ have a crush on a spirit.

She thought a spirit was cute. There was an extreme difference. Now, if their plan worked and Thalia lived again...

Bianca felt like slapping herself.

* * *

"This is a lot creepier than it was in my mind," Bianca admitted, lighting the candles that surrounded the bones. "You owe me big time after this."

"Anything you want, pretty lady," Thalia agreed.

She hadn't stopped calling her that since they were in the graveyard, and Bianca couldn't tell anymore if she was blushing because she was annoyed or flattered.

"Where's Jason?"

Bianca expected the question. "Upstairs. Nico promised to keep him busy."

Thalia nodded and released a breath. 

Bianca caught herself staring. She was just so  _human_. 

"Ready to do this?" Thalia asked, handing her a slip of worn paper. "There's the incantation."

Bianca nodded. She had never done spells before. Not spells like this, anyway. But she was ready; she had to be, for Thalia. The more she thought of it, the more it bothered her that Thalia was actually dead and intangible.

She spoke the incantation, careful to watch the volume of her voice. They were in the basement, but that didn't mean that Jason couldn't hear them.

She waited a few beats after finishing it. Nothing happened. 

Thalia clenched her fists. "Try again."

Bianca did. Still nothing.

"Oh my God," Thalia breathed out, throwing herself against the wall. She wasn't looking at Bianca, but her irregular noises of distress alerted Bianca that she should probably try again. Nothing.

"Fuck," Bianca cursed for probably the first time in her life.

She couldn't help it. She hated to admit it but after hearing Thalia assure her so many times, she had actually started to believe that she could do it. She would be the one to bring Thalia back. Thalia would be alive and well, and she would kiss Bianca and hug Jason and visit Annabeth and Luke and—

"I—I think I'd better go," Thalia mumbled, and Bianca barely heard a slight sniffle.

Was she crying? Was the big, bad Ghost Girl  _crying_? It was almost enough for Bianca to burst into tears.

She couldn't imagine how Thalia felt. Thalia invested her all into the possibility that she would be able to breathe again, that she would be able to come back and raise her little brother, and see her old friends again. And she had lost everything because of Bianca—because Bianca was unable to do what she needed her to do.

"I'm sorry."

Thalia wordlessly shook her head. 

"Please stay."

"I can't," Thalia answered hoarsely. "I can't, Bianca."

"Let's talk about this," Bianca insisted. "Maybe there's something we're missing."

"I didn't tell you everything," Thalia confessed. "But I really doubt that makes a difference."

"Tell me," Bianca practically begged. "Please."

"I know who killed me."

What?

"Hades di Angelo," Thalia revealed. "Your...dad. He killed me."

Bianca stopped breathing for a moment.

"You're wondering why," Thalia noted tearfully. She still wouldn’t look at Bianca. She buried her face in her hands. It was hard to hear her. "Do you know anyone named Zeus?"

Bianca shook her head, trying not to let all of this overwhelm her. Tears built up, but she didn't let them spill over. She hadn't cried in nearly ten years, and she wouldn't start again now.

"Zeus is my father. He’s the man who killed your mother," she replied. "I didn't know at the time. He knew you had the gift—he knew you could speak to the dead. You—you could  _see_ the dead. He was aiming for you."

Bianca was hyperventilating in this point, failing in her struggle to hold her tears back. At some point during her explanation, Thalia had crouched down next to Bianca for comfort.

"My father's the one who put the curse on me," Thalia said. "He thought your dad was going to make you send me to Hell even though you were merely ten at the time. He wanted to make sure I would never leave the earth."

Bianca sobbed, pulling her knees to her chest and crossing her arms over them. She buried her face against her arms so Thalia couldn't see how ugly she looked when she cried like this.

“He thought you were evil. Bianca, you have to understand that he didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Thalia stuttered.

She was defending him?

Bianca sobbed harder, louder, allowing all the startling information to take the best of her.

"I wish I could hold you," Thalia revealed shakily. "I'm sorry."

She was too overwhelmed to over-analyze the affectionate confession.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bianca worked out between breaths that were far from regular. "Why keep this from me?"

"I—I didn't want to hurt you. And it's happening right now. I told you, and now you're sad, and God, I knew I would fuck this up—"

"Thalia."

Her ghost—she wasn't sure exactly when Thalia had become  _her_  ghost—glanced up at her, and Bianca saw how hard she was fighting back her own tears.

"You want revenge, don't you? That's why you want to be alive again."

"No!" Thalia cried, distressed. "B, it isn't like that!"

 _B_. That nickname again. This time, the flashback she had didn't leave her.

She recalled swinging, giggling beside a girl much older than her.

 _"Watch this, B!"_ the girl had demanded before she did an impressive back-flip out of the swing.

Bianca remembered that girl. She had told her  _secret_  to that girl.

"Thalia?" She couldn't help it as her voice broke.

"I should have told you," Thalia admitted, her eyes intently staring through Bianca. "I just—I wanted to live again. I want to live again. So badly. All of this is my fault. If I had never told my father that you could see the dead, we would be here now under completely different circumstances."

"You—you're the reason my mother died."

"Bianca, please, I didn't know!"

Bianca had always held grudges. If she were an ancient hero, it would be her fatal flaw. It had always gotten her in trouble. It was one of the reasons she didn't have friends. She could never find it in herself to forgive anyone. All she did was blame. It was all she had seen her father do. It was why her father killed Thalia.

Oh, God, her  _father_  had killed Thalia.

"I'm sorry," she broke and told Thalia, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry!"

"What?" Thalia asked, genuinely confused. She reached out for Bianca, and gasped when her hands only went through again. "Why can't I touch you again?"

"Because he killed you!" Bianca shouted, pushing herself up. "You're  _dead_ , Thalia!"

She probably shouldn't have done it, but she made her way out of the basement, leaving Thalia in there with her own lifeless skeleton.

"Bianca?" she heard her name called as she reached the top step.

She didn't answer. She waited for Thalia to continue.

"Maybe you were right."

"What's that?"

"Maybe I was meant to die.”

* * *

Bianca had a restless sleep. She also had a dreamless one, thankfully. She wasn't sure if she could handle dreaming about Thalia again. Thalia had vanished after the night in the basement, and it had been two weeks since. All Bianca had been able to dream about was that day on the swings, the future she and Thalia could've had if their spell had worked. She wondered why, even after finding out what had really happened all those years ago, she found herself  _wanting_ Thalia.

Being a total recluse really wasn't what Bianca had in mind for her future. She already saw spirits everywhere; did she  _really_ have to go and fall in love with one?

When she entered her kitchen, she was struck by the image of Jason sobbing into his bowl of Frosted Flakes.

"Hey," she murmured soothingly, sitting in the chair beside him. She rubbed his shoulder. "Are those sad tears or happy ones, piccolo?"

Jason sniffled, turning away from her. "I'm not crying," he declared, his voice nasally because of his stuffed nose. "I don't cry, Miss Bianca."

"You're a brave boy," Bianca agreed. "But do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"She might..." Jason whispered brokenly. "Your—your brother, Nico, he..."

"I can't hear you through your tears, piccolo," she murmured in his ear, pulling him towards her.

He reluctantly hugged her back. "I'm doing this because you need it," he assured her, squeezing her.

"Of course," she agreed. She ran her hand through his military-cropped blond hair. "Can you speak now? What is all this about Nico?"

"Nico, he," Jason paused in his sentence, and Bianca felt him tense. "He's trying to bring her back."

* * *

Bianca ran into the basement just in time to see bits of flesh regenerating on the skeleton. Her eyes widened as she hurried down the steps. She watched, entranced and mystified, as bits and pieces of Thalia's body formed together, like some sort of human puzzle.

Thalia's form materialized, looking just a tad bit taller and older. Her eyes were stuck closed.

Bianca looked to Nico urgently, seeing he was sweating with the effort. He was surrounded by a strange black fog, and for some reason he wouldn't stop saying the incantation, over and over again.

It was then that Bianca finally put the pieces together. Nico had been able to see ghosts. Nico had been able to  _touch_ and  _feel_ Thalia. Nico was the only one who could bring her back. He was the one that Thalia had waited ten years to get to.

Bianca heard a choked cry next to her, and she was barely able to hold a hysterical Jason back.

"Don't!" she warned him. "She doesn't look like she's breathing yet."

"What are you people doing?" he screamed, thrashing about and fighting her off. "Don't mess with my sister!"

"She wanted to be brought back!" Bianca had to shout over him. "She's the one that found me! She's the one that signed your adoption papers!"

"You're lying!" he argued, managing to break her hold.

Before she could stop him, he tackled a chanting Nico, knocking him onto the ground.

"Stop doing that to her!" Jason ordered, raising a fist threateningly.

He paused, not making a move to attack Nico.

"I want answers," Jason spoke, his voice quivering in anger and his lip quivering in sadness. "What sick game are you playing? Did you just adopt me to let your father get to me? Because I have news for you! I'll kill him with my bare hands if he so much as breaths the same air as me!"

Any anger Bianca had for Thalia, any blame she felt, was washed away as she watched Jason, the ever polite and generous boy, grief-stricken and waving a fist above his new friend's face.

Bianca barely saw Thalia rise out of the corner of her eyes, but she was too focused on Jason to do anything.

Jason froze when he felt strong arms lift him off of Nico.

"They're only trying to help."

"Tha—Thalia?"

Before she could respond, Jason turned and flung himself into her arms, squeezing the newly-given life out of her. She hugged him back just as fiercely, whispering soothing words in his ear that Bianca didn't have to fortune of hearing.

"How is this possible?" Jason asked her, clenching his fists in her jacket. "After all of this time, how are you here in front of me?"

"You have Nico to thank," Thalia answered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "And Bianca."

"But Hades—"

"But Hades, nothing," Thalia countered. "They're good. There's no need to hold so much anger anymore, Jase. I'm back now."

"This is crazy," he murmured. "Annabeth won't believe me."

"Luke will," she assured him. She rested her chin on his head. "We'll see them soon, I promise. But right now—ironically—the only thing I want is sleep."

Bianca tried not to take offense to it when Thalia and Jason crashed on her bed, in her warm sheets. Jason was being the little spoon, and Bianca managed to snap a few pictures of it. He wanted to play all tough, did he? She wouldn't let him live this one down.

Bianca paused before leaving the room. She hoped they were around for a long, long time.

* * *

Jason wouldn't stop staring at her the next morning. He had woken up with her, followed her around the house and helped her brush her teeth and change into the biggest clothes Bianca had (a pair of loose sweatpants and a sleep shirt). He had silently tried to teach her how to do everything again, and Bianca could tell that Thalia remembered the routine well. It was sweet to watch them interact. It made her smile as she watched his eyes widen at every move she made, every breath she took.

He hadn't talked. Not much. Not until breakfast that morning, when Thalia finally cracked open and asked him about visiting Annabeth and Luke.

He cleared his throat, and Bianca tried not to notice how he made his voice sound more regal and authoritative—more like his sister's.

"What do I think about visiting them?" he repeated the question. "I think we might want to wait it out a bit. Get your hair cut first."

"Watch it," Thalia warned, pointing at him with her spoon.

Bianca watched them with a smile, setting Thalia's breakfast down in front of her.

Thalia moaned, totally exaggerating, as she took her first bite.

Jason smiled in confusion. "You don't even like oatmeal."

Bianca smiled to herself.  _She just likes me._

"Hey," Thalia replied, sounding offended. "You try being in the dirt for ten years. It changes your perspective a bit."

He scowled at her for the poor joke, but Nico setting his toast in front of him made him smile again. Before Nico could walk away to get his own plate of food, Jason stopped him by grabbing onto his wrist.

Nico flinched, glancing down at him questioningly.

"Thank you," Jason whispered sincerely, grinning as a blush spread over Nico's cheeks. "And I'm sorry for hurting you. Is your side okay?"

"It's fine," Nico admitted with a shy smile. "And it's no big deal, really. I saw how upset Bianca was, and she's been having these dreams—"

Bianca slammed her hand over his mouth before he could continue.

Thalia's eyebrow—Bianca's favorite, the left one—shot up.

"Don't."

Despite Bianca's comment, Thalia leaned into her ear. For the first time, Bianca felt warm, cinnamon-scented breath fill her ears instead of a frozen breeze.

"Why don't you tell me about these dreams?"

Bianca pushed her way, unable to help the pleasure she got from  _finally, finally_ touching her. "Not on your life, Ghost Girl."


End file.
